I walk back home under the rain again. Trying to empty my mind from what just happened.
Hoping it will wash away my sadness, my tears.
Once I get to my empty dark apartment, my hair and clothes are dripping water. I take them off, staying in my underwear. I walk to the kitchen to get my bottle of bourbon, immediately filling my glass and taking a few gulps.
I watch the rain outside.
Which mirrors my inner turmoil, relentless and unforgiving.
I collapse onto my bed again, tears streaming down my face, the memories of my past colliding with the present.
And as I lay there, I close my eyes and I picture him, all those times he's smiled at me, laughed along with me, his sad eyes the other day, all the times I've woken up next to him and when he calls out my name.
I cry, clutching my pillow, as I clutch desperately to those memories. My sobs echoing through my empty apartment.
Unexpectedly, I think back to Jaehyun, to the betrayal, the fall, and the loss that followed. The pain of that day has never truly left me.
It haunts my steps, colors my every decision.
I hate him, and I hate what happened.
I told myself I was protecting Yoongi by keeping him at arm's length, but was I really just protecting myself?
But the truth is, I've been afraid.
Afraid to love fully again –or for the first time– to be vulnerable. Afraid that I'll lose Yoongi the way I lost everything before.
But now, with the way he looked at me tonight, I realize I've been losing him little by little with each passing day I kept silent. And it's entirely my fault. I'm the one to blame.
I had him so close yet so far away from me. He's never been mine. He will be someone else's and that kills me.
My head is spinning. I sit up, reaching out for my glass to sip my bourbon, the warmth doing little to ease the cold ache inside me.
The rain outside continues to fall, each drop a reminder of the time slipping away from my fingers, the moments I can never reclaim with Yoongi.
I take a moment to breathe, take a few more gulps and pour myself more of the burning liquid.
I reach out for my phone and scroll through our old messages, each one a fragment of our journey together. Messages of us bickering, flirting. I stop at a photo of us, taken on a rare day off. He's smiling brightly, which is rare if you know Yoongi, and me, well I seem happy, carefree. Which is also rare, if you know me.
I ache for those moments, the simplicity of being with him. That time in Italy, those high school days when I'd sneak into his house to see him, those rare moments when he's all goofy and smiley and cute.
My fingers hovering over the keyboard. I want to reach out, to tell him everything, but the words feel heavy, clumsy.
He is with her.
What if it's too late? And what should I say? That I'm a fucking coward and selfish bitch that needs him back?
"Fuck." I whisper to myself, closing my eyes and putting my phone away. I decide to leave things as they are for now. I need time to step back and I'm guessing he also needs a break from my own mess.
I bury my face in my pillow, sobs wracking my body. As I slowly drift off to sleep, my mind thinks of him.
I'm not going to lie, I want him back.
I want to feel his arms around me, to hear his voice soothing my fears. I want him to look at me that way he does, so lovingly and gentle.
But more than that, I want to be brave enough to love him the way he deserves.
🌫 🌪🌧
thank you for reading!
